Mid Winter
by KaleidoscopeKreation
Summary: It is surprising what a heart can go through and keep on beating. It is astounding what a soul can endure and still feel pity, compassion, or even... For True's Alternate Pairing contest. High T rating; may change. You have been warned.


**A/N: So hey there. It's me again. But not in the usual place, I have to admit.  
Who would think that I – Izzy, the writer of infinite PxL fluff – would be doing a fic like this? But I am; for True Colours' crack-pairing contest. CURSE YOU, TRUE! She told me about the contest, and this bunny that... sat up... and twitched its nose... and wove itself inextricably into my brain and one of my favourite songs. **

**But before I start, I must thank MewMidnight, whose alternate pairings fic is a Mecca for those of us who are bored with the same old Kishigo again and again, for lending me this scenario. It is, in fact, from... wait, let me look it up... chapter 11. (You might want to read it so you get what's going on, or you might just want to take your chances.) MewMid, you ROCK! **

**But without further ado... let us begin.**

**Chapter 1**

"_**The pain of having a broken heart is not so much as to kill you, yet not so little as to let you live." -Anon.**_

She knew she was lucky not be Mint. Or, in fact, even to be alive.

If what she was could be counted as alive, and if it was, whether that was really luck at all. Maybe death was better than this.

But to know it could always be worse, even _now, _made her feel strange. Sometimes she wondered whether it was her pity for Mint that gave her a will to carry on.

Lettuce looked across the dark room now, at the slight, pale girl crumpled by the fire. Her face was blank, her bones showed through her skin, and her eyes were half-closed, the slight fragment of brown that showed overly bright. Even from a distance, Lettuce could tell her breathing was rapid.

She stirred a few times at the watery gruel she had scavenged from the kitchen, hoping fruitlessly that some more nutritious material would come to the surface, but nothing more few lumps of vegetable showed. She crossed the room to her fellow mew, holding the bowl of steaming liquid in one hand and the spoon in the other. She reached Mint, and tilted her head back, talking to her quietly but clearly.

'Come on, Minto-san, drink this. You'll feel better.'

The small girl's eyes flickered a few times, and without a word, she began to weakly gulp down the gruel. In a few minutes, most of it was gone, leaving only a few scrapings at the bottom of the bowl and a dribble on Mint's chin. Too tired even to lift her hand, Mint groaned and shut her eyes again.

Lettuce wiped the dirt a way with her already grimy apron, wincing as she felt every detail of Mint's skull under her skin. When she was finished, she recrossed the kitchen, dragged a piece of old sacking out from under the cupboards where she had stowed it, and wrapped it around the younger girl, tucking it carefully under her skeletal body. Mint made no sound to thank her, and Lettuce expected none. The girl hadn't spoken to her, or nodded or smiled or acknowledged her presence in any way at all, for a long time. Maybe it was because she was too weak, or too unhappy. Maybe because it was what Zakuro did, staying silent and strong and far apart from the other three. Or maybe ignoring Lettuce and Ichigo was her one way of keeping a tiny flame of ego there, keeping herself just above, as she saw it, the lowest of the low.

That thought made Lettuce sad. But even if it were the case, she would continue to help Mint.

She heard a distant scream echoing down the corridors – she winced, and stirred what remained of the gruel, knowing that it was only a matter of minutes before Ichigo came back. Sure enough, in a short time she heard the scrape of tired feet heading down the stairs to the kitchen, and the door opened as Ichigo to stagger in.

She, like Mint, looked worn, pale and exhausted. Her rough dress hung off one shoulder and her trodden wrecks of shoes were carelessly put on. Tear-stains streaked her cheeks with red, and her eyes were sparkling and bloodshot. Lettuce could see bluish black smudges already forming or her shoulders and arms, and that her lips were swollen and chapped.

Every day, or close enough. It was like a record being played, again and again. For weeks, months, she had been in this purgatory, with no end in sight.

'Ichigo-san,' she said, holding onto the girl's hand and guiding her to a spot beside the fire. She spooned another helping of gruel into the bowl, and handed it to Ichigo. The cat-girl close to snatched it, and began gulping it down gratefully, her meal broken by only the occasional sob.

She finished within the minute, and passed the bowl back to Lettuce, who took it silently.

'Thank-you,' Ichigo said.

Lettuce nodded, and sat down on the floor beside her, huddling as close as she could for warmth. The two girls sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the roar of the fire and Mint's shallow breathing.

'How is she?' Ichigo asked at last.

'Not good. She managed to drink some soup, but her temperature's just going up.'

'And what about you? Have you had anything?'

'Ichigo-san, you know I don't have to eat as much as you two.'

'And why exactly would that be?' Ichigo demanded, her tears disappearing as she became angry.

'I don't have to... work... as much as you and Mint,' Lettuce mumbled, ducking her head. She couldn't believe that, even after all this time, she still found the topic an embarrassing one. Ichigo's tone softened, and she put her arm around Lettuce.

'Lettuce, I know. But you still need to eat _something, _or you won't be fit to look after us, will you?' she said quietly. 'I'm sorry I shouted.'

'It's okay.' They were silent for a few minutes, allowing the low noise of the fire and each other's breathing comfort them, until Lettuce felt almost content. Ichigo and she clung together now, steadfastly hanging onto one another for reassurance that there was still good in this world, that, even though their world had been destroyed, something was left. Many an evening they had sat by this fire and shared memories of the old days, going over happy times and funny times, and smiling as they did so. But it was always bittersweet, because all of that was gone now. All gone.

Pudding, especially, was a subject that they could hardly bear to talk. She had always been there in the happiest moments, beaming and laughing like a miniature sun, and in the sad ones too. She had been steadfast and solid to the end, when they had been torn apart, four this way, one the other. She had waved and given a courageous smile even as Lettuce herself had been sobbing so hard she could barely see. She had found out since that the monkey Mew had been taken to a work camp somewhere on the mainland. There could be no doubt of what had happened to her by now.

'Pudding,' Lettuce said quietly, the tears welling up easily in her eyes.

Ichigo wrapped her arms around Lettuce tighter. 'I know.'

Suddenly, a new pair of footsteps came into earshot. Too strong and purposeful for even Zakuro, and with the clunk of hard boots echoing against the stone floor. The two girls tensed, and sat up, their fists clenched in fear. Mint gave a tiny moan and stirred in her sleep.

The door banged open, and the Alien guard came into the room.

His eyes swept over the three girls with the cold, composed expression of one who has stopped seeing the world as a place with questions. He required nothing more than he had, and thought of nothing but his duty and his next meal. These girls' lives meant little to him, past an order that must be obeyed. He didn't think about what happened. Thinking was not his job.

'Deep Blue-sama requests the Lorikeet,' he said. Then he was silent. He had been told they would know what he meant.

Lettuce sat frozen where she was, her eyes fixed on the pale, skeletal form of Mint. He couldn't, not this time. _Why, why _couldn't he have been content with Ichigo? Why cause this?

Lettuce cleared her throat, sitting up where she was. The guard focussed his stony gaze on her. Every instinct screamed at her to shrink back, to let Mint go and not risk her own life. But that was, in its own way, equally impossible.

So she took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment, and then spoke. 'That's me.'

It probably wouldn't have worked if the guard hadn't been relatively new. But he was – this had been his first week working in the castle, after receiving a promotion from a death camp and coming to the capital. All he had been told was that there were four girls, one of which was a lorikeet, and that he should to bring her to Deep Blue.

Lettuce waited with held breath for a few moments, while he looked at her. _Please, please just swallow it. Please..._

After a moment, he nodded, and gestured sharply towards the door. 'Come with me. Deep Blue-sama wants you.'

Lettuce got up, her legs trembling, and followed him out of the room. She felt Ichigo's round eyes boring into her back all the way. She silently thanked her friend for saying nothing, and then the door closed behind them.

They were nearly there, and Lettuce felt sick.

She had been amazed that the guard had bought her lie, having prepared herself to have to beg and plead and perhaps even then fail. To her, the words had seemed as transparent as glass – but she supposed that he hadn't been expecting it. Why would he?

But now the initial relief had worn off, she was terrified of what would come next. Deep Blue would know who she was. He would most likely kill her on sight, or by some slow and torturous method of his own invention.

But even if he didn't, she would still have to endure what came next – what she had just saved Mint from. Even that, best scenario was enough to make her throat close and her breathing become shallow with fear.

They were there. The guard knocked on the door, and a voice came from inside. 'Enter.'

It sounded deceptively normal – colder and clearer, perhaps, than the average voice, but nothing out of the ordinary. But that almost made it more petrifying. Lettuce cowered, her shoulders hunched, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling at the knowledge of who was behind that door. These might be the last few moments of her life.

The guard pushed open the heavy door, and, grabbing Lettuce by the dress, hauled her in. 'Here she is, Deep Blue-sama.'

Lettuce, shivering in a combination of terror and cold – this room was always even more chilly than the rest of the castle – let her legs give out under her, and fell to her knees. Her roughly-cut hair fell across her face, and she glued her gaze on the floor. He knew now. She could do nothing but wait.

There was a short silence, in which Lettuce counted her fast heartbeats. When he next spoke, Deep Blue showed no surprise in his voice, and addressed the guard politely.

'Thank you.' He gave no clue to his reaction in his voice, and Lettuce suspected that even if she had been able to see his face, she would have been none the wiser.

The guard bowed, and prepared to leave.

'Guard!'

Both Lettuce and the alien started in fear. But Deep Blue's tone had not changed from one of utmost courteousness. 'Are you new here?'

'This is my first week,' he said nervously.

'I see. You may go.'

The guard bowed again and exited, evidently very much relieved. The door clicked shut behind him, and an icy silence filled the room.

Trembling from cold and tense with fear, she slowly looked up, past her comforting curtain of hair to the figure who sat majestically in front of her.

He was seated upon an enormous, blue bed, with a cover pulled up to his waist – nothing more than a show, Lettuce thought bitterly, as he never got cold – and several blue pillows. Maybe back in the old days, Maybe Lettuce would have found the entirely blue room amusing. Maybe she would laughed at it with Ichigo, and thought how pretentious it was. But to herself, now, it wasn't funny. Anything but. She knew what this room meant for her.

Deep Blue made everything seem different – colder. This place, which without him would have seemed normal, even comfortable, was now a frozen throne-room for a powerful and terrible king. His long, black hair fell around him, contrasting eerily with his white face and chest. His arms and shoulders looked strong enough to break a human with one blow; his narrow, catlike blue eyes glinted like pieces of ice in snow, but with an unnatural gleam of red that sent shivers down Lettuce's spine. He was inhuman, evil. And she was utterly at his mercy.

And now, he spoke, with that exceedingly normal voice. 'I did not send for you. Why are you here?'

'Please don't kill me,' Lettuce could hear her voice trembling, the blind terror she was feeling pathetically apparent in her words. 'Please – '

'_Answer me!' _His voice, suddenly angry, cut across hers like a sharp whip. Lettuce cringed back involuntarily.

'Tell me,' he said, his voice abruptly quiet, but with a commanding, menacing undertone she knew she was not to ignore, 'why _you_ are here, and why your blue friend is not.'

Lettuce bowed her head. 'I... came... because Minto is sick. She is very weak, and feverish. Coming... to you... would have made her worse. As it is, I think she may – '

'I do not wish to hear the details of her condition. Go on.'

Lettuce screwed her eyes shut, and took a great, shuddering breath. 'I tricked the guard and told him I was Minto, so that he would have me come instead. Minto-san is currently unconscious. So I'm here.'

There was a silence, which stretched on until Lettuce couldn't bear it anymore. Her mouth opened, and she began to blurt out another plea. 'Deep Blue-san, please don't – '

'Come here.'

Lettuce gulped back her words and stood, her hands shaking. She crossed the room, haltingly and stumbled to a stop beside the bed, her head bowed.

'Sit down.'

Lettuce sat very gingerly on the edge of the bed, every nerve stretched to breaking point. Deep Blue waited until she had been sitting for several seconds, and then, very slowly, leaned forward, until his face was several inches from hers.

'I could kill you now.'

'I know,' Lettuce whispered, her throat closing in fear. _Please let me not cry. Anything but that. _

'You realised that, before you came here.'

'Yes.'

'You are taking that risk, for your friend's sake.'

'Yes.'

'If she were to die, you would not have to look after her. You would have one less mouth to feed, and more time to rest yourself. In short, you are foolish.'

'Deep Blue-san, you don't understand – ' Lettuce blurted, and then stopped.

'_I _don't understand? '

She screwed her eyes shut and bowed her head, waiting, waiting.

She felt cold hands on her shoulders, snaking around her back, pulling her closer to him. She shuddered, trying to resist the urge to shy away. 'She doesn't talk to you, even as you attempt to keep her alive. She considers you beneath her, an inferior, only there to wait upon her. Has it ever been different, I wonder? She, and the others, have always treated you this way – fit to help them, but not on their level. Why keep her alive, then, when you know she wouldn't look twice if it were you starving to death?'

'Let's just say,' Lettuce replied shakily, 'that you're right, and Mint wouldn't do the same for me – that is no reason for me not to,' she steeled herself, looked into his face, into the icy, emotionless eyes that a braver being than her would still need courage to meet, 'As long as I try to be generous and good, I know that these things still exist, and that helps to keep me going.'

Deep Blue arched an eyebrow. 'So, you aid her to square your own conscience. That is selfish.'

'Why do you care?' Lettuce burst out. 'How do you even _know _about – Look. Why can't you stop playing games and just do your worst? Kill me, or... whatever else you plan to do, but please just get on with it.'

She waited for several seconds, her breath coming fast and shallow, allowing herself to break off her staring match with him and shut her eyes tightly. But the time lengthened, and, to her shock, Deep Blue remained silent.

After a few minutes had passed and she still wasn't dead or being tortured, Lettuce felt her breathing slow. Her muscles began to untense, little by little. She found herself relaxing, her body grasping at this relief and beginning to right itself...

But then, as quickly as a cat pouncing, Deep Blue moved.

He rolled, grasping her to him and moving so that she was pinned under him, trapped and unable to move. Lettuce, unable to choke back a gasp of shock, stared up at him, terrified, her blood thumping a wild rhythm in her ears. _What now? No no no no no no no..._

Ice. It felt like being trapped in ice. She couldn't see or think or feel anything that wasn't him – cold, blind terror. She cried to close her eyes, but she seemed to have frozen in place, unable to move a muscle for fear.

'Kiss me,' Deep Blue said.

His breathing was even, his voice unmoved. Lettuce, without realising she had been fighting, gave up. There was nothing else to do. The wait was over.

She lifted her face upward and touched her lips to his cold mouth...

...

She hadn't felt it. She never had – but she had never really noticed before. Whatever he made her do, or did to her, she didn't feel hatred. Or digust, or repulsion, or even a significant amount of anger. All she felt was sadness.

He didn't know. He didn't care. She couldn't explain to him how feelings made one irrational, and why she had come to him that night instead of Mint, or why his kisses filled her with sorrow that he could never see how special these things were, how his embraces were all wrong and how wonderful he would feel if they were right, and how he had taken the most precious things to her and twisted them into things they weren't, they shouldn't be. And she felt...

'Pity,' the word choked its way out of her bruised, tired mouth.

He pulled back to look at her, his eyes locked on hers. When she did not continue, he raised one eyebrow and gestured at her to proceed.

She bent her head, her breaths coming fast and ragged. She waited for a few seconds, then wiped her eyes, took a deep, rattling gasp and spoke again. 'I... feel... sorry for you.'

'Sorry for me,' she could hear a kind of dry amusement in his voice.

'Yes,' she breathed, 'because – you'll never know... how it is...' her voice trailed off, the impulse behind her outburst wearing away to leave weary fear, and the same grief.

They lay in silence for a while, Deep Blue running his long fingers up and down her spine, Lettuce curled in a ball beside him, shivering slightly, trying not to cry and to ignore him while she thought. He had killed her family, her friends, people who she had never met and people who hated her. He had killed her younger brother, her Pudding-imouto, and now perhaps Mint. But she could still pity him.

'Maybe you're lucky, though,' she rambled on, not caring what he thought, 'It hurts... so much... now they're...

'...still, better to have loved and lost, I suppose...

... but to never know... how it is... for it to never be real. But I'm saying that like I do,' Lettuce finished bitterly, and even somewhat awkwardly. Deep Blue had taken her first kiss, and everything else.

'You could just be saying that,' he mused, 'to try and disconcert me. To evoke a feeling of guilt, and try and gain self-esteem at your own nobility.'

Lettuce rolled over, blinked the tears away until the escaped down her cheeks and no longer blurred her vision. 'I'm not.'

'Take your clothes. You may go.'

'Nani, Deep Blue-san – '

He did not respond, past taking his hand from her back and motioning toward the door. She rolled away from him, disentangling herself from the sheets and dressing herself somewhat self-consciously. She was suddenly conscious of the stiffness in her muscles and the ache of her head from crying and fatigue. She fumbled with the laces on the front of her dress, thrust her feet into her shoes and shuffled her way over to the door.

As soon as she was out in the corridor, she leant against the wall, and let herself sob. She had no idea what time it was, or even of how long she had been with him. Her knees felt weak and her body hurt, but most of all her heart ached. She plodded mechanically along the corridors to the kitchen stairs, pushed open the door and stumbled down, collapsing next to the fire just as Ichigo had done, before...

How long had it been since she had left this room? It could be a few minutes, or hours, or years. She could barely remember why she had gone in the first place; had it been worth it? She was _so_ tired...

...It wasn't real. Lettuce started slightly and blinked as the thought came to her. It wasn't real, and now, it never could be. He kissed her, he did all the things that were meant to be special in life, that she had _saved _to be special for her, and taken them and ruined them. For all of them. And he liked Ichigo and Mint better than her. She despised herself for caring, but she did. Oh yes... this evening, he hadn't even wanted to see her... it had been... Mint... but she had...

'Ichigo?' she whispered hoarsely. 'Is Mint okay?'

She felt bony arms curl awkwardly around her and drag her towards the warmth of the fire. 'She's asleep. Lettuce-chan, you were so brave.'

'Thanks,' mumbled Lettuce. She felt Ichigo drag a piece of sacking around them, and sit down beside her, huddling them closer to the fire.

'Ichigo...?'

'Mmm-hmm?'

Lettuce sighed. 'Never mind. I'll see you in the morning.'

'We didn't give you any dinner. Sorry.'

Lettuce didn't reply, and let herself be lulled by exhaustion, the crackling of the fire and her friend's heart-beat in her ear. Now came her favourite part of the day – the time when, for a few short hours, the world seemed almost whole again.


End file.
